


Nice Hat...

by Ezlebe



Category: The A-Team (2010), The Hangover
Genre: Crossover, Gen, very small hits of Phil/Stu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-27
Updated: 2011-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezlebe/pseuds/Ezlebe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are a series of short drabbles very loosely based on a couple of lines from the first Hangover film.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice Hat...

**‘I should have been a cop.’**

“Jade! Did you call a stripper?” He asks in a harsh whisper, watching as a man dressed like a police officer steps through the door, interrupting their last-minute, late night filing session.

“No?” She turns around, confused, and raises her eyebrows in interest. “Oh, but he’d be perfect for my bachelorette party.” She winks at Stu through a carefully placed hand.

“…You’re getting married?”

“No, but I’d pretend if it got that on my lap, wouldn’t you?”

He tilts his head, considering, “well-.“ 

“Excuse me,” The man says, knocking on the glass partition. “I can hear everything you say, and I’m not a stripper. Your alarm went off a few minutes ago.”

Jade and Stu exchange confused looks, his slightly more tinged with embarrassment. 

“We have an alarm?” Jade asks, furrowing her brow. 

 

**‘I stand corrected, it was a bartender.’**  

“Melissa told me she got drunk and slept with a bartender last week, and I’m completely fine with it.” Stu nods, knocking back another shot of brightly colored liqour. “Honesty is the best policy.” 

“That’s ridiculous, you should dump her, now.” Phil sneers after a few moments of shocked silence, making a wide gesture. “Also, you’re drinking my entire desk stash, and that’s not fine.” 

“You really shouldn’t have this on school property, man.” Stu tucks the bottle under his arm, “you could get fired.”

“I know too much about Principle Reynolds to get fired at this point.” He easily fights the bottle away from Stu and puts it back in the drawer. “Now call her and dump her, for fucks sake.” 

“I’m not going to dump her,” Stu sighs, leaning back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “She said wasn’t thinking when she did it.” 

Phil closes his eyes and takes a deep aggrivated breath. “You are an idiot.”

 

**‘Would you please put some pants on? I feel weird having to ask you twice.’**            

Stu stubbornly stares at a cluster of dark spots on the wall, counting them over and over as Phil continues to mumble something about cats, lying on the futon and distracting him from this potentially degree-dependent essay.  

"Why aren't you dressed?" Stu finally breaks, making a frustrated growl as Phil only moves to his head to the side. 

“It’s fucking hot, man,” Phil whines, dragging a hand up his chest and showing Stu the sweat on his palm. “I could fry an egg on my abs.” 

“Didn’t you get invited to a barbeque or something, I distinctly remember you saying something about a cook out yesterday.” Stu manages to grind out in a calm tone. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t really that interested in him.” Phil reaches lazily towards his shirt, hung over the window ledge, but seems to give up far too readily when he finds it out of reach. 

Stu manages to rein his reaction into a series of quick blinks, “what?” 

“Yeah, he was cute, but kind of a nerd. Talked way to much about comics and shit.”

 

**‘It’s not illegal. It’s frowned upon, like masturbating on an airplane.’**   


“Facey, this guy looks just like you,” A strange, scruffy man in the row ahead yells, jumping up onto the back of his own seat and staring upside down at Phil. “I think they cloned you.”

“No one cloned me, Mur- holy hell!?” Phil and Stu stare at the guy sitting next to the lunatic, and Stu feels his eyebrows jump up into his hairline as he blinks at a near copy of Phil, staring straight at him. 

“Oh god there’s two of you,” Stu breathes, looking between Phil and the other guy, and then back the man hanging off his seat. “I think Alan drugged me again.” 

“Alan’s not even here, but I kind of want to agree anyway.” Phil responds quietly, voice tightly wound.

 “The colonel isn’t gonna be happy with this,” Mur-something says, nodding like he suddenly knows the answer to this fucked up riddle.

 “Murdock, get down!” The doppelganger says, and they watch as he pulls the other guy down into the seat by his belt. "We’re not mentioning this to Hannibal, okay?” He whispers, but it's no where near quiet. 

“But if someone cloned you, there might be more Face’s out there, maybe even a whole army.” Murdock turns back to face them, and Stu tries to smile, “what if you two are the only ones who escaped?” 

“Shut up, there is a perfectly acceptable reason for this, okay?” Face, or Temp maybe, whatever, turns around and looks straight at Phil. “You were adopted.” 

“How did you- I mean, well.” Phil trips over his words, something Stu hasn’t been witness to in a long while, “oh.” 

“See, perfectly reasonable explanation.” The man gives them a disturbingly familiar smile, and turns back forward, pulling on the provided headphones and apparently deciding to ignore them for the rest of the trip.

 “It was nice to meet you, Temp’s brother and dorky friend,” Murdock whispers through the seats. “May we one day meet aga- ack okay, fine I’ll watch the movie.” 

 “Well, that is weird.” Stu says under his breath, looking anxiously between the screen and Phil’s still slightly shocked face. “It’s not every day you meet your long-lost twin.” 

“We’re not going to talk about this, ever again,” Phil says firmly, “if only for my sanity.” 

The next hour of the flight is tense, Stu caught up the odd fantasy between a childhood with two Phils, and the image of an entire Phil army. 

He grimaces when he accidentally trips over the Face while trying to get to the bathroom, leg jutting into the aisle, awkwardly apologizing to a man who looks exactly like someone he’s not needed to say sorry to for decades.

When he gets back, however, it’s like the Twilight Zone. Phil and his long-lost-twin grinning at the third man as he explains something with manic motions that look suspiciously like a child pretending to be an airplane. 

“Dude, Stu,” Phil smiles up at him, “this guy flipped a helicopter!”

 

**‘My man does not shut up, Jesus Christ.’**   


**“** Just calm down for a moment, and let’s think about this, okay?” 

“I lost Eli, Phil, how are you so calm?!” Stu covers his eyes, “oh my god what if he’s dead, what if he got hit by a car.” 

“Seriou-“

“Exactly, okay this is serious, this is very serious, I might have just provided the next in a long line of child slaves to be shipped to Russia!” 

“Stu, shh,” Phil covers Stu's mouth, effectively muffling his panic. "It’s fine, and when we find him we can make it up to him with the cherry ice cream he likes.” 

 “How can you talk about ice cream at a time like this,” Stu says, shoving Phil away, his breath speeding up. “Oh god, I think I’m having a panic attack.” 

“Stu, it’s just a game he likes to play.” Phil shrugs, “it’s like hide and seek without a seeker, he never goes very far. I mean, the furthest he got was his plastic playhouse a couple months ago.” 

“How long has this been going on,” Stu asks, feeling like he’s should shake Phil. “He’s been hiding in random places and you didn’t say anything the first time around? What is wrong with you?!”

 “Fuck, that’s not how I wanted that to sound,” Phil mutters. “Okay, I’m going to go find him; he’s probably giggling in his closet, listening to you freak out.”

“That kid takes way to much after you,” Stu hisses as they check various cubbies. “He might look like Steph, but this personality is all you.” 

“Aw, come on.” Phil grins as he fishes a similarly smiling Eli out of the pantry, where he’d been nestled in with the potatoes. “You love planning the weeks they’re over here.” 

“You found me Uncle Stu!” Eli cheers, stopping Stu from forming any kind of defense, and throws his arms up in pride. “Are we going to get ice cream now?” 

Stu can’t help the smile that breaks over his face as he takes one of the boy’s little hands, “I guess so.” 


End file.
